


Spyro: Bane of the Dragons

by thebandragoness



Category: Spyro, Spyro the Dragon (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, classic Spyro - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5598196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebandragoness/pseuds/thebandragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mysterious and powerful new villain emerges who is determined to prevent the unification of the Dragon Realms, Avalar, and the Forgotten Worlds, Spyro must travel to an unknown land where he will be forced to ask himself a troubling question - What if the dragons have been the bad guys all along?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the World of Dragons...

“Okay, rolling!”

On every last TV screen across the realms, there sprang up an image of two massive dragons before a sprawling castle. One dragon's scales shone gold while the other's were a dull beige, and both of them stood on their hind legs (as all grown dragons do), a pair of microphones in their claws.

“Good morning, world,” the gold dragon said into the camera. “This is DNN, Dragon News Network, bringing you the latest from across the Dragon Kingdom. And we're in for a real treat today, aren't we, Lindar?”

“Indeed we are, Bob,” said the beige one. “Feels like the Year of the Dragon was just yesterday, and we're already throwing _another_ huge party here in the Artisans homeworld.”

“If anyone knows how to party, it's the Artisans,” said Bob. “I mean, have you _been_ to a Dream Weavers party? Their idea of a good time is to take a nap!” This earned a chuckle from his co-host. “Besides, this isn't any old bash. No, folks, we dragons have gathered people from across the realms to celebrate the signing of the Unity Treaty. That's right – With the remnants of the Rhynoc resistance driven off, we're finally free of the last few reminders of the Sorceress and her freakishly unsightly rear. And, well, not to editorialize, but this reporter thinks it's high time we dragons reclaimed our ancient homeland.”

“But don't forget, this party's not _only_ for our newfound partnership with Avalar and the Forgotten Worlds.” A smile crossed Lindar's snout. “It's also in honor of the greatest hero the dragons have ever known. Without him, the Forgotten Worlds would still be under the Sorceress's thumb, we'd be calling Avalar 'Riptonia-'”

“-and I'd have the _worst_ cramp in my wings from being frozen in crystal by that Guh-Nasty Guh-Norc character,” added Bob.

Lindar chuckled to himself, then turned back to the camera. “That's right, ladies, gentlemen, and the genderless brainsucking blobs from the outskirts of Dream Weavers who watch all things-” An image of an eldrich horror flashed across the screen just long enough to make you question if you’d really seen it. “-I'm referring to the champion who saved the Dragon Realms from the Gnorcs, who protected Avalar from Ripto, who liberated the Forgotten Worlds from the Sorceress. I speak of _Spyro the Dragon!_ ” He threw his claws in the air dramatically.

“Hold up, aren’t you forgetting one? Didn’t Spyro go on another adventure with, like, dragonflies or-?”

“Please, Bob, I think I’d remember something like that. As I was saying, the Artisans are throwing this party in celebration of _all three_ of Spyro's incredible adventures.” He waved into the camera. “Happy Unity Day!”

* * *

Now, I know what you're thinking: How could dragons have a news network? That's just silly! What, did they all have working televisions hooked up in their caves? Well, it's true that the Dragon Realms weren't as technologically advanced as, say, Avalar. In fact, no dragon had ever built anything more advanced than a toaster. But they were, however, perfectly capable of flying down to the Dragon Junkyard and ordering some Machinists to build the TVs for them.

See, despite its name, dragons weren't the only inhabitants of the Dragon Realms. The place was also home to a handful of humans. There were the Machinists, who worked in the Dragon Junkyard, the Balloonists, who ferried the young, non-flying dragons between homeworlds too far apart for portals to reach, and, of course, the Agriculturists, who herded the dragon's sheep (Dragons were no good at sheep-herding. They got too hungry). The only other humans were those crazy old druids up in the Magic Crafters' mountains.

Well, there were also the Egg Thieves, but to be honest, nobody was really sure what species those guys actually were beneath their cloaks. Whenever anyone caught one, the Thief would vanish in a puff of smoke before they could get a good look. But if the Thieves _were_ human, they must've been a small rebel group. Though a couple of them had sided with Gnasty during the Gnorc uprising, the vast majority of humans were on excellent terms with the dragons.

Though the younger dragons could test their patience.

“ _Get back here, you dirty little thief!_ ”

A withered old human sprinted with surprising speed across the well-grazed grass of Stone Hill, his dull brown cloak flowing almost as majestically as his pure white beard. The target of his pursuit was an absolutely terrified-looking ball of wool – or rather, the owner of the tiny pair of jaws clamped around said ball's jugular.

A blur of purple scales charged downhill, a struggling sheep in its mouth. And hovering over the purple blur's shoulder was a little ball of golden light. Sparx the Dragonfly gave a worried glance back at the human in hot pursuit. He made a kazoo-noise that, in dragonfly language, translates as, “I'm really, really sorry about this! We'll pay you back, honest!”

“Doggone it, you violet villain!” barked the shepherd, waggling his staff in the air as he ran. “That's the fifth one this month! I don't care how many lives you saved, when I get my hands on you, I'm gonna-”

“ _Good luck with that, gra_ _mps_ _!_ ” said Spyro through a mouthful of fluff. With a sudden swerve, he, Sparx, and the poor, poor sheep were flung through a nearby golden archway, and the next second they were miles above Stone Hill, sailing through the clouds.

Spyro laughed as he unfurled his wings to zoom through the air. He glanced back at the archway-shaped hole in the sky to see that the shepherd had hesitated at the portal entrance. Of course, the portal's magic would keep the guy from falling to his death, but he couldn't leave the rest of his flock unattended.

Spyro shook his head. Humans were so dumb. It was a wonder any race with no fangs, claws, or fire-breath had ever amounted to anything.

A minute later, Spyro did a loop-de-loop in the air (purely to show off) then landed in the grass back in the Artisans homeworld. He released the sheep from his maw so he could grin to himself. Spyro loved traveling by portal. Until his adult wings grew in, magic-induced flight was the closest he could get to the actual thing.

“ _Baa-!_ ” The instant it was free, the sheep ran for all it was worth, but it didn't make it three feet before Spyro pounced on it again.

“ _Spyro_.” Sparx hovered before Spyro's face, glaring at him. “Y'know, pretty soon you're gonna start wearing a cloak and going ' _nyaa_ _h_ _nyaa_ _h_ _nyaa_ _h_ _-nyaa_ _h_ _nyaa_ _h_.'”

“Are you complaining?” With a smirk, Spyro spat a jet of fire downwards. The sheep instantly vanished in a puff of smoke, out of which a butterfly fluttered. Sparx couldn't resist gobbling it up in spite of himself. The sheep had also left behind a perfectly carved leg of mutton, which Spyro happily dug in to.

“Well, we shouldn't eat _too_ much,” said Sparx. “We don't wanna get full before the Unity Day Party.”

Spyro noisily swallowed, then grinned again, showing off his meat-covered fangs. “I think you mean the _Spyro_ Day Party.”

Sparx rolled his eyes.

* * *

“Whattaya think? Pretty snazzy, huh?”

Hunter the Cheetah beamed with pride as he showed off his shiny new penguin suit.

“Meh.” Spyro spared it maybe half a glance before losing interest. The group of Sparx, Hunter, Bianca, and himself was currently making its way towards Artisans Castle, the centerpiece of the homeworld where the brunt of the festivities was being held. “I'm gonna be honest, I've never seen the appeal of the whole 'clothes' thing.”

“Well, I think he looks charming,” said Bianca. Currently, she was decked out in an elegant, tight dress complete with a little hole in the back to let her fluffy rabbit tail poke out – which raised several eyebrows from the older, more prudish partygoers. Bianca shared a smile with her boyfriend, then pecked his cheek.

Behind their backs, Spyro made a face. The appeal of romance, he saw even less. Spyro swore he'd never let some crazy, love-obsessed chick within fifty feet of-

“Spyro!” The moment they reached the castle, Elora ran up and flung her arms around Spyro's neck.

“Wha-? Oh, uh, h-hi, Elora...”

He'd known her for a while now, yet Spyro still had no idea what to make of this girl. She was pretty, he guessed, for a mammal, though Spyro would've sworn she was a half-shaved goat if he hadn't learned what a faun was. Apparently, Elora was half-human, but she sure as heck didn't look like any human girl Spyro had ever seen. All the shepherd wives in the Artisans world were old and fat and lumpy, whereas Elora was... well, the opposite. In Spyro's eyes, she hardly even looked like a human. She was more like a fairy. A big, wingless fairy... that'd been sawed in two and glued to the bottom half of a goat.

“So what do you think of my new dress?” Elora gestured to the emerald silk she'd draped over herself. The dress was so long, her goat-half was totally covered.

Spyro blinked. “Oh, uh, it looks-”

“ _He does_ _-_ _n't li_ _iiii_ _ke it,_ ” said Hunter in a singsong voice. “Spyro doesn't see the _appeal_ in wearing clothes.”

Spyro shot him a glare. “You look great, Elora. Really. It's just that me and Sparx are perfectly happy being naked, that's all.”

Elora laughed. “Yeah, well, I don't think this is _that_ kind of party, so I'll keep my dress on, if it's all the same to you.”

And with that, Spyro and company ventured into the heart of the festival. Now, I don't know if you've ever been to an Artisans party before, but suffice to say that when the Artisans throw a party, they _throw a party._ We're not talking a dinky little “I bring the soda, you bring the cups” party. This thing was _lavish_. We're talking the greatest musicians in the Dragon Realms performing live on stage as the Idol Springs Hula Girls jiggled to the music. We're talking a dessert table that wrapped from one end of the castle to the other – When you're feeding hundreds of dragons, you'd better bring extra.

The Artisan Castle ballroom was humongous, yet there was barely an inch of free space. Spyro found himself having to push his way through the crowd so he could breathe – and escape the horde of dragon hatchling fangirls that formed every time he showed his face in public. That pink-scaled one was ready to have Spyro's babies then and there...

“I can't believe those kids!” Spyro groaned. Naturally, Hunter and Bianca had gone off alone, leaving Spyro and Sparx behind with Elora. “Don't they get how creepy it is? I watched most of them hatch from their eggs!”

“Do you really blame them for liking you, though? You're kind and strong and brave and cute.” Elora brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “I mean, really, who _wouldn't_ like-?”

“Ugh, romance is lame,” snorted Spyro. “Having a girlfriend would cramp my style. I'm way happier with girls who are just friends. Y'know, like you.”

Out of nowhere, Elora's face stiffened. “Gee, thanks,” she said flatly.

After that, Elora didn't seem quite as interested in talking to Spyro. Man, this was just like the time they'd gone to Dragon Shores, and then Elora had gone all quiet after they went on the heart-tunnel ride. Honestly, Spyro wasn't sure if she was being so weird because she was a mammal or because she was a girl.

“Hey, buddy?” Spyro leaned in towards Sparx. “You ever wish we could hang out with girls without it always having to be about rom-?”

“Sparx!” All of a sudden, Zoe fluttered up towards the dragonfly. She, too, was in an elegant dress, albeit a fairy-sized one. “I've been looking everywhere for you.”

“Hey, Zoe,” Sparx smiled. “What's up?”

“Well, I... I've been thinking about this for a long time, and, um...” Zoe glanced away, her cheeks flushing. “...I just wanted to tell you, when you faced down the Sorceress's bugbot army, well...” Slowly, cautiously, she met his eyes. “...it was the bravest thing I'd ever seen.”

“R-Really?” A tinge of crimson entered Sparx's golden glow.

“Sparx, would...” Zoe glanced towards the nearby dance floor, where couples of all sizes, sexes, and species were twirling around. “...would you like to-?”

“ _Sparx, darling!_ ” The space between Zoe and Sparx was promptly filled by yet another fairy. This one was a bit larger than Zoe, and her dress was so long that it dangled inches beneath her feet. Any non-flyer wearing it would surely have tripped. “You've gotten even dreamier than the last time I saw you.”

“P-Princess Ami?” buzzed a dazed Sparx.

“What do you say, handsome?” Ami gave a wicked smile as she hovered in closer. “How about you and me hit the dance floor?”

“I- I thought you eloped with Prince Azrael?”

“Who?” Ami looked blank for a second. “Oh, right, him. It didn't work out. Turns out he was really boring. Nowadays, I'm much more attracted to...” She leaned in even closer. “... _invertebrates_.”

Zoe muttered something under her breath, but she apparently wasn't brave enough to speak up.

Sparx shot Spyro a pleading look.

“Uh... _Hey what's that over there?_ ” Spyro quickly found a very interesting chunk of wallpaper on the far side of the ballroom.

“Remind me not to take the hit for you next time you get hurt!” Sparx called after him.

Somehow, Spyro and Elora ended up at the far back of the room together, where all the nerds, geeks, and dorks had gathered. Bentley the Yeti was currently engaged in a lively discussion with a Dragon Elder over the etymology of the word “antidisestablishmentarianism.”

Spyro let out a sigh. “Looks like the plague of love's turned into a full-blown pandemic.”

“Come on, Spyro. A little flirting never hurt anyone.” Elora giggled, then accepted a glass from a passing Gnorc-waiter.

Spyro frowned at the crimson liquid within. “You sure you wanna drink that? Not everyone can handle Beast Makers-brewed wrymwine.” He gave a worrying glance to one of the wrymwine's other victims, a goat being chastised by a certain mountain kangaroo.

“ _I'm gonna do it... I'm gonna go tease that ram!_ ”

“ _Billy, NO!_ ”

Elora shot Spyro a smirk. “Trust me, I can handle it. Remind me to take you to the Fracture Hills Pan Festival next year.” She took a swig.

“Whatever you say, Elora.” Spyro shook his head, smiling to himself. But then his face grew pensive. “So, uh, why does Fracture Hills celebrate a cooking utensil, anyways?”

“He's a satyr deity, you dork.”

And with that, their conversation lulled a bit as Elora grew preoccupied with her drink. Spyro's eyes wandered towards the dance floor, where Hunter was busy showing Bianca the time of her life. For one crazed second, Spyro pictured himself doing that with Elora, but, well... he had a feeling quadrupeds didn't make the best dance partners. And besides, Spyro's head barely even reached Elora's torso. The two of them dancing was a pretty funny mental image, actually.

“Well, well,” said a voice, “if it isn't the legendary hero himself.”

“Huh?” Both dragon and faun turned to find yet another fairy flying towards them. This one, however, was different from Zoe and Ami. Her hair was bright red, her dress was a dazzling gold, and her eyes had an almost imperceptible orange glow to them.

Spyro gave a start. “Your Majesty?”

Elora turned to him. “You- You know this girl?”

“Know her?” scoffed Spyro. “She's the queen of the fire fairies!”

“So you do remember me.” The queen fluttered closer to Spyro, her wings radiating heat with every flap. “I know _I've_ never forgotten _you_ , Spyro. That day you rescued me back in Haunted Towers... Why, I'd never seen so much excitement.”

“Ah, it was no big deal,” said Spyro in a tone of voice that insinuated it was a very, very big deal. “I do that kinda hero stuff all the time.”

“Really? Do tell.” The queen hovered closer to the floor, nonchalantly wrapping her arms around one of Spyro's front legs, and then led him away. “My, my. You've grown since I last saw you.”

“Oh, you noticed?” Spyro puffed out his chest. The two inches he'd gained in the time following Gnasty's defeat were a matter of great personal pride for him.

“You're welcome to drop by my palace whenever you'd like,” the queen said silkily as the two of them wandered off. “I'd be happy to improve the strength of your fire breath...”

It was a good thing Spyro hadn't turned around. The look on Elora's face would've made his reptilian blood run even colder.

* * *

Hunter had been planning on spending all night wowing Bianca with his expertly choreographed dance moves, but the two of them had quickly dropped everything once Hunter spotted a friend of his sitting alone at a bar stool.

“Elora? You okay?” Hunter reached her side just in time to watch her down another gulp of wine. Apparently, Elora had abandoned her glass in favor of the whole bottle.

“ _Hunter..._ ” She buried her face in the countertop. “ _Ish... Ish it wrong f_ _e_ _r a faun to love a dragon?_ ”

Hunter pondered this for a moment. “Well, _I_ won't judge-” Bianca nudged his chest. “I mean, yes, totally fine!”

“Here, let's get you cleaned up.” Bianca gently helped Elora to her feet.

“ _It'sh jusht that dragonsh are... they're sho hot!_ ”

“Sure, Elora, sure,” Hunter said as he stealthily removed the bottle from her hands.

* * *

Spyro hated to ditch Elora, so he'd decided to make his chat with the fairy queen quick... two hours ago.

“...and he went down in two hits,” Spyro was saying. “They tried to build Gnasty up like he was gonna be some super tough final boss, but it turns out he was total pushover.”

“Really?” The queen fluttered her eyelashes, sprinkling little sparks of flame through the air. “You're _sooo_ interesting, Spyro.”

Spyro grinned, showing off his fangs (which still had flecks of mutton in them). “I know.”

The queen glanced at some of the other fairies in attendance, who all seemed to be shooting her jealous glares. “You know, my people owe you a lot, Spyro. Tell me about the time you saved all the fairies in the Fairy World from freezing.”

“Oh, that? Well, it was one of my smaller adventures. Not one of the main three, but still worth mentioning...”

But just then, a voice rang out across the party: “ _Ahem._ Attention, everyone. If you'll all kindly make your way to the front gates, we have a special announcement.”

Hey, Spyro recognized that voice! It was the Professor. But what was he doing here? He didn't really seem like the partygoer type. But Spyro didn't give it any more thought until he, alongside the rest of the party, had moved outside.

Now every last dragon, fairy, gnome, electroll, and countless other species were gathered beneath the castle balcony. And there was a pretty diverse collection of people _atop_ the balcony, too. Virtually every important figure in the Dragon Realms, Avalar, and the Forgotten Worlds had gathered up there. The little old, bespectacled, labcoat-wearing mole known only as “the Professor” was standing at the front, and around him were the five Dragon Elder heads of the homeworlds, the three kings of Avalar (the owners of those castles Ripto had taken over), the newly-elected leaders of the Forgotten Worlds, and even the heads of each of the three realms' respective fairy populations. The fire fairy queen left Spyro's side to be by her fellow queens – the queen of the Fairy World (Zoe's homeworld, a sub-division of Avalar) and the queen of Charmed Ridge (Princess Ami's mom).

But what was especially odd was the balcony's increased military presence. The Professor's faithful space monkey, Agent 9, was bouncing around his heels, keeping “Mr. Laser-Blaster” on high alert for signs of any rhinoceros-like intruders. And behind them, there seemed to be an awful lot of guards around a giant tarp of some sort – There were a few dozen Peace Keepers dragons, Sgt. Byrd and his hummingbird militia, and even a couple Breezebuilders and Land Blubbers who seemed to have come to a begrudged ceasefire for the day.

After a minute, the head of Artisans, Elder Nestor, cleared his throat. The crowd grew quiet and, thanks to a spell from Elder Cosmos, Nestor's voice was magically amplified.

“Thank you all for coming today to celebrate this momentous occasion. Today, the leaders of our three realms have gathered together to sign a treaty. A treaty that will ensure the peace and prosperity of...”

Down in the crowd, Spyro yawned. Man, these grown-up speeches were always so boring. When were they gonna get to the part where they started praising him?

“...but that is not the only reason we're here today. We also have something to show you. Something that will change all of our lives forever.” He turned to the mole standing at his heels. “I'll let the Professor take it from here.”

“Thank you. I- Err, well, I-” The Professor only stammered for a moment before managing to say, “Ever since Spyro saved Avalar, I've been hard at work on a way to travel to the Dragon Realms. See, Avalar's never had much of what you'd call a military presence, and I figured a friendship with the dragons was the best way to protect us from usurpers like Ripto, and, well, I would've had this ready sooner, but, err, my coordinates were a bit out of date, and, well, the point is...” He gestured for a pair of dragons to remove the tarp. “...I've completed work on an even more advanced model of the Superportal.”

The moment the tarp was off, the whole crowd let out an impressed whistle. Standing at the head of the balcony was a golden arch larger than any Spyro had ever seen before – even bigger than the original Superportal. But that wasn't the only impressive thing about it. See, the old Superportal had been powered by a bunch of orbs in the slots on the sides and a Power Crystal on the top. Well, this new portal was powered by a bunch of Power Crystals in the slots on the sides and an _even bigger_ Power Crystal on the top (the red hexagonal kind, not the purple Crash Bandicoot kind).

“You see, I've been hard at work synthesizing an additional ninety-nine Power Crystals,” the Professor explained, fiddling with his glasses. “In theory, this new Superportal should be over a hundred times as powerful as the old one, allowing for near-instantaneous travel to and from any other portal in the Dragon Realms, Avalar, or the Forgotten Worlds.” Despite his less than confident tone, the Professor's words were met with deafening applause.

“Thank you, Professor.” Elder Nestor nodded to him, then stepped forward again. “With this new portal, the dragons can protect Avalar from future threats as well as help the Forgotten Worlds rebuild their government. In exchange, dragons will be allowed to immigrate to these realms, becoming citizens. This expands our opportunities – especially seeing as overcrowding has become a serious problem for the dragons. Now when our hatchlings grow up, they'll have entire new worlds to explore. Someday soon, I believe the old magic caused by our presence will return to the Forgotten Worlds, and it will spread to Avalar as well.” He smiled at the crowd. “This is a prosperous time for not only the dragons, but for _all_ of us.”

There was more applause, louder this time. Even Spyro found himself clapping – though it required him to balance precariously on his hind legs. So now he could visit Avalar as easily as Stone Hill or Town Square? Awesome.

But then, as if to rain on their parade, the courtyard suddenly grew overcast. For a second, Spyro thought those storm clouds that'd driven him to Avalar so long ago were back, but then he turned his head skyward. Those weren't clouds at all.

They were ships.

Cries rang out from the crowd as adult dragons ushered their hatchlings to safety. Back on the balcony, Peace Keepers were already flying towards the ships, lungs burning with readied fire, while a hummingbird fluttered around Sgt. Byrd's shoulders, proclaiming in a thick accent, “Sir! We 'ave unknown aircraft approaching! 'Ow should we proceed?”

“Form a perimeter around the party guests!” the old penguin bellowed (Somehow, despite being raised by the hummingbirds, his accent was totally different).

Back on the ground, Spyro's eyes narrowed as he stared down the ships. They all seemed to be metal-plated contraptions full of spinning gears powering the faux dragon wings that kept them aloft. It reminded Spyro of Gnorc handiwork, except... except for those pillars of steam erupting from the machines. Gnorcs didn't use steam power, they burned fossil fuels.

The militaries waited in anxious silence, daring the intruders to make a move. But instead of attacking, the largest ship in the fleet simply hovered in the air as its captain stepped out. The guy had to be at least twenty feet tall – maybe even bigger than Gnasty Gnorc. He looked kinda like a sky pirate, only every inch of him was covered in steam-spewing machinery. He carried a massive scythe in his hands, and a metal mask had been welded over his head that looked vaguely like a scary face, complete with a pair of goggles that looked like angry eyes.

The metal man pointed his scythe at Elder Nestor, then proclaimed in a deep, reverberating voice:

“People of Avalar and the Forgotten Worlds, listen well. You are steering yourselves towards your own destruction. I have come here to save you. Only I can liberate you from these monsters you've allowed to control you. These creatures decimated my people, but I will not allow the citizens of your worlds to share the fate of mine.”

He raised a steel fist into the air.

“I will save you from the monsters. I, Lord Steampunk, will end the reign of the dragons!”

Oh, right, Spyro had almost forgotten – Dragon parties tended to get crashed by bad guys.


	2. An Evil Plot Unfolds...

If Spyro had hair, it'd be standing on end right now. Countless aircraft blotted out the sun above Artisans Castle, overlooking the terrified, fleeing crowd below. And standing at the helm of the largest ship was a metal-plated monstrosity.

Lord Steampunk, huh? Spyro shivered, and not from fear. He hadn't seen any real action since the Sorceress.

Down in the crowd, a toddler-sized yeti yelled out, “You don't look so tough! My big brother could take you with one hand tied behind his-!”

“Bartholomew, considering your frankly negligible stature, it would be prudent to remove yourself from this particular skirmish post-haste!” Luckily, Bentley quickly ushered him off to safety.

Back in the air, a wave of fire erupted from the jaws of the Peace Keeper soldiers. Both his ship and Lord Steampunk himself glowed red for a moment, but other than that they were unaffected.

“ _No!_ ” gasped a Peace Keeper. “He's wearing fireproof armor, _and_ he's too big to charge!”

“That makes him invincible!”

Lord Steampunk let out a deep, hearty laugh. “You really think I'd pick a fight with dragons unprepared?” With another flourish of his arms, he aimed his scythe at the airborne dragons. “Now, my army of Punks, _exterminate them!_ ”

Countless creatures poured out the ships. They were moving so fast, it was hard to get a good look at them, but... they appeared to be a bunch of metal-plated humanoids, like smaller versions of Steampunk himself, except they also sported garishly-colored neon mohawks, swung giant chains around, and flew on rocket-powered motorcycles. They kinda reminded Spyro of Metalhead.

“Defensive positions, men! Tally-ho!” Sgt. Byrd and his hummingbirds fired their shoulder-mounted BAM (Bird to Air Missile) Launchers at the oncoming army. The Punks were thinned out, but there were still far too many remaining. They swooped down at the civilian dragons, even managing to smack several of them with their chains.

“That does it!” Spyro threw himself in front of one of the older, less mobile dragons, deflecting an oncoming Punk-chain with his horns. “Why don't you Punks try picking on someone who can fight back?”

“Spyro, don't!” But before Spyro could so much as breathe a puff of smoke, the old dragon yanked him away. “Go hide with the other hatchlings!”

“Are you kidding?” snapped Spyro, squirming out of his claws. “You think I can’t take these jerks? I beat Gnasty Gnorc, Ripto, _and_ the Sorceress!”

“Only because you had to,” the old dragon said firmly. “You're the most capable child in the Dragon Realms, but you're still a child. Let the adults handle this.” Reluctantly, Spyro met his stern gaze. “I'm counting on you to keep your fellow hatchlings safe. Understand?”

Spyro exhaled slowly, spewing steam out his nostrils. “Yeah. I get it.” With that, he ran over to the edge of the courtyard, where the dragon nurses were herding the hatchlings away.

Spyro got it, alright... Even after everything he'd done, the grown-ups still thought he of him as little kid. They _never_ appreciated Spyro. Even when he'd saved all their butts from being frozen, most of them barely spared him a quick “Thank you for releasing me” before teleporting away!

Besides, the dumb hatchlings would be fine. Babysitting them was always such a drag.

The prospect of battling an evil overlord, on the other hand, was more Spyro’s speed. His brow creased as his eyes skimmed the castle. “These oversized baddies _always_ have some weakness…” Up on the balcony, a couple Magic Crafters dragons had tried transmogrifying Lord Steampunk into a harmless bunny rabbit, but their spell had simply bounced off his magic-proof armor. Obviously, the direct approach wouldn't work. Steampunk was too smart for that. If he was gonna beat the jerk, Spyro was gonna have to surprise him.

“Hey, Spyro, what about that over there?” Spyro flinched at the voice by his shoulder. Oh, Sparx was back after getting dragged off by those fairies. Spyro was so used to his pal’s constant presence, he hadn’t even noticed when Sparx finally returned to his side.

Spyro followed Sparx’s gaze to something jutting out from the edge of the castle grounds. Specifically, it was a runway of perfectly smooth stones decorated with arrows, which practically pointed right at Lord Steampunk's ship. “Bingo!”

Back in the air, Sgt. Byrd was busy flapping his stubby little wings to keep airborne. He was fixing to aim one of his bigger missiles at Lord Steampunk when a fairy flew out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around him.

“James, I'm scared!”

“ _Isabelle! Not in front of the other officers!_ ”

Luckily, the hummingbirds were distracted by a purple blur launching off a nearby Supercharge ramp and zooming through the air.

“Wha-?” Lord Steampunk noticed right in time to watch the blur pierce a hole clean through his ship's hull. A moment later, a massive hunk of metal was spiraling towards the thankfully mostly-evacuated courtyard below. _Crash._

“Ugh... Did it work?” Dragons were durable creatures, meaning the moment the impact was over, Spyro pulled himself out of the wreckage and searched it for Steampunk's body.

He found it pretty easily. Now if only it'd been a _dead_ body.

“Impressive.” Apparently, Lord Steampunk's metal suit was durable, too. It'd barely taken a scratch from the fall. “I'd expect no less from the champion of the Dragon Realms.” He chuckled to himself. Somehow, even through the goggles, Spyro could feel the intensity of Steampunk's glare. “Finally, after years of biding my time, I will make you pay for what you did to me.”

Spyro raised a scaly eyebrow. “Sorry, I don't think we've met. I'd remember someone that ugly.”

Steampunk chuckled again. “Cute. But let's see how your wit holds up when you're _cleaved in half!_ ”

 _Snikt._ The scythe moved like lightning. Spyro barely even had time to register it before it hit him. By all right, Spyro should have experienced the most excruciating pain imaginable in the scant few seconds before his inevitable end… but instead he felt, like, a mild sting. Spyro had been knocked back quite a few feet, but he was definitely in a bigger piece than he should've been.

“Nngh...” Spyro opened his eyes to see a familiar dragonfly hovering before him. “Thanks, pal!”

“N-No problem.” Sparx winced as his glow changed from gold to blue. “Taking the hit for you’s what I do best. Barely even felt it… honest...”

“Good, cuz we’ve got lots more fighting to do!” Spyro pulled himself back into a fighting stance. “Now let's kick this overgrown Punk's butt into next week!”

But Steampunk had raised his scythe for yet another swing. “Your confidence is misplaced, dragon. I'm not like the others you've faced. I learn from my mistakes.” But instead of bringing it down on Spyro again, he hurled it through the air. The scythe's blade landed right in the middle of the Supercharge ramp, cracking it in two. Then, through some unknown power, the scythe flew back into its owners hands.

“If that was true, I'd think you'd know how to dress yourself by now.” This time, Spyro was ready and managed to dodge the scythe in time. “Seriously, you look like a reject from _Gear Grinders' Gaudiest Gadgets_.”

Judging from his tone, Steampunk was losing his patience. “Your childish insults won't save you.”

“Uh huh.” Spyro hopped onto the courtyard's dessert table. As fate would have it, one of the dragons' main entrees was live sheep. With a quick burst of flame, Spyro converted one of them into a butterfly for Sparx, restoring his glow to its usual golden luster.

Lord Steampunk must not have been happy to see Spyro restored to full health because he suddenly got really ticked off. “ _That's it._ ”

_Snikt._

Spyro once again dodged the scythe, causing it to instead slice the ropes around the captive sheep's necks. The moment they were freed, the sheep bounced away to safety like a man possessed.

“Let me give you a reality check, dragon.” Lord Steampunk raised his scythe again, but it didn't look like he was aiming for Spyro this time. “You're not a hero. You're not special. You're nothing but a minuscule little hatchling who's happened to be in the right places at the right times.”

Spyro's face contorted into a snarl. Okay, this guy had officially hit a nerve. The deviation of his size from the norm for a dragon his age happened to be a particularly touchy subject for Spyro. Those who valued their non-singed butts tended not to bring it up around him.

“You and your dumb luck are nothing but a symbol of the dragons' power, and I am going to make _everyone_ here realize just how meaningless that symbol is.”

Wait, he couldn't be aiming for…?

The scythe swung through the air, directly towards the nearby crowd of non-dragons. The crowd that happened to include a certain cheetah and rabbit trying to escort a drunken faun to safety?

“ _Elora!_ ”

Thank the ancient dragon gods, Spyro managed to knock the scythe out of harm's way with his horns. The blade landed harmlessly in the grass, then teleported back to its owners hands.

“S-Spyro?” Elora mumbled as she looked up at her rescuer. “Ugh... My head...”

That'd been too close. No more screwing around. Spyro needed to hurry up and do this while he still had the chance...

“Listen!” he said frantically, turning back to the evacuees. “I need you to kiss me! _Now!_ ”

“Really?” _That_ seemed to cure Elora's hangover. She started to move forward... only to be shoved out of the way.

Spyro pressed his face against the face of the fire fairy queen, who'd been hovering nearby, and kissed her deeply. She let out a surprised but not displeased gasp before kissing back with even greater intensity. Of course, dragons are pretty awful kissers, seeing as they lack lips and all, but the smooch was still more than enough to infuse Spyro with a heaping helping of fairy magic.

The moment the queen's lips left his snout, a warmth began to grow from Spyro’s head down to his claws. His heart burned his blood with every pump. His scales glowed bright red from the sheer heat inside. Spyro turned back towards Lord Steampunk with a distinctly smug expression on his scorching hot face.

“You wanna know something, Punk? You're nothing but a dirty coward. If you were really the noble one trying to save people from the big scary dragons... _then why'd you attack a crowd of non-dragons, you jerk?_ ”

The fire erupted from Spyro's throat with enough recoil to send him flying backwards. The Superflame powerup had never been _this_ strong before. That must've been _some_ kiss.

There was a noise like popcorn popping, followed by a cry of agony, and then Lord Steampunk tumbled back as well. Spyro's flame still hadn't melted the armor, but it'd at least been hot enough to make it really uncomfortable to wear.

“Ha! You like that, you wuss?”

Right as Spyro was getting the upper hand, a jetpack suddenly unfolded from Steampunk's back-plate, and he rocketed off towards his fleet of ships. Spyro snorted a puff of smoke after him. _Coward_.

“Fine, little dragon, you can live another day,” Steampunk called down. “My people have what we came for.”

“What?” Spyro followed Steampunk's gaze back towards the balcony. Uh oh. The Punks were, apparently, a bit tougher than the Rhynoc – They'd overpowered Agent 9. The Punks had proceeded to rip the Superportal from its foundation and were currently hauling it towards their ships on the back of their flying motorcycles.

And that wasn't the worst of it. Another squadron of Punks had flown out of the Artisans Castle windows with sackfuls of gems in tow. Every dragon still conscious roared in fury. Word to the wise – Do _not_ get between dragons and their treasure.

“We issue you a challenge, dragons!” Lord Steampunk's deep, distorted voice bellowed out over the crowd below. “My people are not unskilled in magic. We'll transmogrify most of these gems into more Punk soldiers for our army, and the rest we'll hide within our realm. And that's not all...”

With one swift movement, he flew over to the suspended Superportal and yanked out the largest crystal. “We'll also be hiding all one hundred of these Power Crystals. You'll have no hope of finding them no matter how hard you search. My minions will put them in the most out-of-the-way places imaginable. And for some of them, you might even have to solve a puzzle or win a minigame. A _really hard_ minigame!” He let out a hearty evil laugh. “If you want your precious treasure and Superportal back, then come to our realm of Chronolia! Come to the site of your race’s extinction!”

But then his voice grew solemn. “Remember, people of Avalar and the Forgotten Worlds, we do this for your own good. The dragons must never be allowed into your realms.”

And with that, Lord Steampunk and his fleet vanished over the horizon as suddenly as they'd arrived.

“Yeah, you'd better run!” Spyro called after them. He turned to a nearby Peace Keeper dragon. “What are you waiting for? Make out with a fire fairy and fly after them!”

But the dragon shook his head. “Those ships move too fast, Spyro. We'd never catch up. For now, we must tend to the wounded.”

“Alright, alright...” Spyro groaned internally. Tending to the wounded was great and all, but it didn't hold the same appeal as kicking bad guy butt.

* * *

Whatever partygoers hadn't run away were now standing around in the wreckage of what had once been a lavish party. Dragon and non-dragon alike sifted through the rubble, helping to carry the wounded out on stretchers. Some people were crying. Others were furious.

“What if this Beamtrunk fellow is right?” The king of Summer Forest, one of the older, more cantankerous kings of Avalar, jabbed an accusing finger in Elder Nestor's face. “If Ripto could take over all of Avalar, and he could be beaten by some dragon runt, then think how easily a _whole nation_ of _grown_ dragons could take over!”

“I assure you, my people mean you no harm.” Nestor raised his claws in a soothing gesture. “There... _have_ been dragons who've turned to evil before-” The other Dragon Elders exchanged uneasy glances. “-but they're as much an enemy of the Dragon Realms as they are of Avalar.”

The king's only reply was to storm off in a huff.

Across the courtyard, Sparx was eavesdropping on the conversation with a look of increasing concern on his golden face. Spyro, on the other hand, was preoccupied with the flood of news cameras and microphones aimed at his scaly mauve one.

“Mr. Spyro, Mr. Spyro, what’s your take on the recent attack?”

“I’ll tell you my take on it, Bob.” Spyro pulled a dramatic pose for the cameras. “Lord Steampunk and his goons are as good as history! They made a big mistake attacking the Dragon Realms when Spyro the Dragon is on duty-”

“What’s a goon?” asked Bob.

“Uh, it’s like a minion.”

“What’s a minion?”

“ _W_ _e’ve been over this,_ _Bob_ _._ ” Spyro shook his head. “The point is, if Lord Steampansy is watching this, he ought to be quaking in his steel-plated boots.”

“That’s a surprising level of confidence,” spoke up another reporter-dragon, “considering that you were completely unable to defeat Steampunk in battle today.”

The pomp quickly drained from Spyro’s face. “Yeah, well, only because he ran away like a wuss. But, I mean, did you see the way I took out one of his ships?” It returned twice as fast. “No one else was clever enough use a Supercharge ramp like that. That was all _m_ _y_ idea _._ ”

Behind Spyro’s shoulder, Sparx opened his mouth, but then he thought better of it.

“Is it safe to presume, then, that Lord Steampunk’s days are numbered?”

“To the decimal point, Bob. To the decimal point.” And with that, Spyro made his dramatic exit from the interview, Sparx trailing behind him.

What none of the cameras managed to capture was the faun slinking behind a pillar in the background, watching the debacle with a growing frown.

* * *

“Don't worry about us, Spyro.” The old mole gave the young dragon a reassuring pat on the head, though it made Spyro squirm. “Even without the Superportal, I should be able to get everyone back to their proper realms using regular Orbs.”

Now that the chaos had finally died down, Spyro had gathered alongside a sizable group of his pals – Sparx, Hunter, Bianca, Sheila the Kangaroo, Sgt. Byrd, Bentley, Bartholomew, Agent 9, and the Professor.

“But we can’t let this creep pop up out of nowhere and ruin Unity Day like this! We have to get that Superportal back!” Spyro gave the Professor a pleading look. “You can’t build another one, can you?”

The Professor shook his head. “Synthesizing more Power Crystals would take significant time and money, and with their treasure stolen, the dragons are a little tight on funds.”

“That’s what I thought.” Next, Spyro turned to the sergeant. “And where is this ‘Chronolia’ place Steampunk mentioned, anyways? Is it close? Can we take a portal there?”

“Negative, solider,” said Sgt. Byrd, saluting. “Without the Superportal, our only viable option is to reach the realm by air, which will take several weeks at the minimum.”

“ _Weeks?_ ” Spyro groaned. “Ugh, I don’t wanna wait that long to kick his butt! There’s no way I could fly that far on my own.”

“That is indeed a factual assessment of the situation, Spyro,” nodded Bentley. “Your aeronautical appendages are presently in the adolescent stage of their development cycle. I should note, however, that your people’s military regime has enlisted the service of a sizable number of plenarily matured soldiers with flight capabilities entirely outclassing your own.”

From Hunter’s face, Bentley might as well have been speaking a foreign language. “ _What?_ ”

“Spyro’s a little kid and he should leave this to the grown-up Peace Keepers,” Bartholomew said flatly.

“ _Are you for real?_ ” Spyro snarled at the little yeti. “You want me to let the _Peace Keepers_ have all the fun?”

“Hey, don’t shoot the translator!”

“Bentley has a point, Spyro,” said Bianca. “There’s no reason to put all the burden on your shoulders this time.”

“Besides, that Steampunk fella practically invited you dragons to Chronolia, didn’t he?” Sheila scratched her chin. “Sounds like a trap if I ever heard one, mate.”

“So what am I supposed to do, go to Dragon Shores and ride the roller coaster?” Spyro’s voice had grown a bit louder than he’d meant it to. “You want me to pretend nothing’s wrong while the bigger dragons handle everything? If I’d done _that_ , they’d all still be stuck in crystal right now!”

“Hey, I totally get you, dude,” said Agent 9, giving his ray-gun an affectionate rub. “I mean, I’m not ashamed to admit I am _super_ bloodthirsty myself-”

“I’m not bloodthirsty!” Spyro was met with a flood of skeptical eyebrows. “Okay, I was a _little_ bloodthirsty back when I fought Gnasty Gnorc, but I was still a kid. Cut me some slack. It’s just, Steampunk’s got to have something planned, and the longer we wait, the more time we’re giving him to pull it off.”

“Really?” Sparx’s skeptical eyebrow had not yet vanished. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that he wounded your pride?”

“I- I-” It was the dragonfly’s words that finally seemed to make their way through Spyro’s skull. “I guess you’re right, pal...” He glanced up at the others. “Sorry for snapping at you, guys.”

“It’s alright, Spyro.” Bianca gave a pained smile. “It’s been a stressful day.”

“Come on, buddy.” Sparx hovered closer to the crook of Spyro’s neck, gently stroking it with every flap of his wings. “It’s getting dark out. Let’s go find you a soft patch of grass.” The sun had, indeed, crept almost entirely beneath the Artisans world’s horizon.

“Alright, alright...” Spyro sighed and followed after his personal nightlight, stopping only to give his friends one last apologetic look. “Good night, everyone.” And with that, he left.

The little dragon followed the golden glow until they reached a pasture. This grass was considered the comfiest the Artisans had to offer, and so it was here that the newly-hatched dragons slept under the supervision of the adults. Spyro tended to sleep a couple feet away from the hatchlings, though. Ever since the Year of the Dragon, things had been a heck of a lot less quiet around here.

“Man, what a day.” A yawn escaped Spyro’s mouth as he curled up in the fluffiest available patch of grass. “Well, at least we drove off Lord Steampunk before he could do any more damage, right, pal?” He tucked Sparx into the crook of his front arms, as he had every night since the two of them were born.

Slowly, Spyro’s eyelids crept shut… only to bolt back open at the sound of wailing.

“Huh? Whuh?” Spyro sprang to his feet, wiping the grogginess from his eyes with a wing.

“Uh, Spyro...?” Sparx seemed preoccupied staring at something. Spyro followed his gaze towards one of the dragon nurses. The nurse had wrapped his huge, full-grown wings around a dozen or so hatchlings, all of whom were bawling their eyes out.

“Tomas?” Spyro ran over to them. “What's wrong?”

The muddy yellow dragon let out a prolonged sigh. “It's... It's Yin, Spyro.”

Spyro's heart skipped a beat. Yin had hatched from the very last egg Spyro had rescued during the Year of the Dragon ordeal. He was one of the hatchlings with the most sentimental value to Spyro, and, yeah, he had an unfortunate tendency to burp a bit too much, but he was still cool. Spyro's eyes fell on Yin's twin sister, Yang. The little white dragon was crying the hardest out of all them.

“What happened? Is Yin hurt?”

“He's...” Tomas shut his eyes. “He's gone, Spyro.”

“G-Gone?” For the first time that day, Spyro didn’t feel the least bit confident.

“They took him.” Tomas’s voice was shaking. “The Punks took Yin.”


	3. The Adventure Begins...

Spyro's blood was boiling again, and not from a fairy kiss this time. “W-What do you mean, they took him?”

Tomas hid his face behind his wings. “In all the confusion, none of us kept an eye on the children. I didn’t even realize one was missing until now.”

“But- But _why?_ ” The only answer Spyro received was a shake of Tomas’s head. But he didn’t need one. Scum like the Punks were always trying to steal hatchlings. Word from the Thieves Den was that baby dragons could fetch unfathomably high prices if you knew the right people. In the uncharted lands outside the Dragon Realms, hatchlings were popular as pets, potion ingredients, and delicacies.

Or, judging by that anti-dragon rhetoric Steampunk had been spewing, Yin’s kidnapping could’ve been motivated by pure, petty revenge.

Tomas’s voice began to tremble. “How could I let this happen? It’s all my fault...”

“No, it’s-” Mid-sentence, Spyro found his eyes traveling towards Yang. She looked back at him with an optimism that only a child could have. “It’s- It’s-”

His legs moved all on their own. Spyro couldn't stop them. He couldn't help but run.

“Spyro-” Sparx followed suit, darting behind his partner until the other dragons had vanished over the Artisans horizon. “Spyro, listen-”

“It’s not Tomas’s fault!” Once he was far enough away, Spyro threw himself into the grass, letting his head plop down into the dirt. “If I'd watched the hatchlings like they'd asked-”

“-then the Punks might have nabbed _you_ instead.” Sparx landed on the crick of Spyro’s neck, gently brushing the dragon’s snout with his wings.

“So what?” Spyro squeezed his eyes, pressing his face against the dirt. “It was still my responsibility to protect him, and instead I had to be the hotshot hero.”

“You made a mistake,” Sparx said softly. “Nobody was expecting this invasion. It’s not fair to be so hard on yourself. You’re just a kid.”

A growl escaped Spyro’s throat. “Yeah, well, I can tell you one thing – I’m sure as heck not sitting back any longer and letting the Peace Keepers save Yin. We have to get to Chronolia, and we have to do it fast! We have to do it before… before...” The growl was soon followed by a yawn.

“You’re not saving anyone tonight.” Sparx gave a strained smile. “You’re exhausted. Get some rest, buddy.”

Spyro sighed, sending a faint outline of smoke into the night air. “Okay, pal, okay. But it’s not gonna be easy.”

“Try to relax.”

Spyro’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier until all he could see was the golden glow resting in front of them. Spyro would never admit it, but ever since he’d been a hatchling, the darkness had terrified him (Of course, Dark Passage hadn’t exactly helped in that regard). Sparx had served as a living nightlight for as long as Spyro could remember, even when he’d been a larva crawling on Spyro’s egg. No matter how troubled Spyro felt, that little glow always managed to comfort him.

Soon enough, Spyro was adrift among a soothing sea of dreams. The Dream Weavers had made sure to whip up an extra pleasant batch tonight.

* * *

The Balloonists were a tough breed, all wrapped up in thick jackets, scarves, and goggles to protect from the biting winds of the Dragon Realms’ upper atmosphere. Any fragile, wingless humans who ventured into the sky had to be tough. And they had to be _really_ tough to say no to a dragon.

“ _No._ ”

“Aww, c’mon, Marco!”

The Balloonist gave Spyro a stern glare. His eyes had to do all the emoting, what with that scarf covering the bottom half of his face. “The Elders gave me direct orders. Hatchlings are forbidden from leaving their homeworlds until the Punk crisis is dealt with.”

“Ugh! That is so lame!” Spyro stormed away from the pier in a huff, and Sparx gave Marco an apologetic look before following.

The duo made their way through the cave back to the central Artisans area, Spyro muttering to himself all the while. “There’s gotta be _some_ way to get to Chronolia ourselves… Hmm, whatever happened to that spaceship from Evening Lake?”

Spyro was so lost in thought that, despite a buzz of warning from Sparx, he nearly rammed headfirst into the couple standing at the cave’s exit.

“Whoops, sorry, guys-!” At the last second, Spyro jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding a collision with Hunter’s golden tummy.

“No problem, dude.” Hunter gave a nonchalant shrug. The cheetah rarely lost his cool, especially when his hand was intertwined with Bianca’s like it was now. Spyro fought the urge to throw up in his mouth.

“Actually, we’re glad we ran into you two,” said Bianca. “We’ve got something we need to show you.”

“Really?” Sparx’s face lit up. “What is it?”

“I’ve been doing some research, trying to uncover as much information as I can about the punks.” As she spoke, Bianca fidgeted with one of her long, floppy ears. “It’s been pretty scarce, actually, but I managed to come up with a theory about them...”

* * *

“So let me get this straight.” By now, the sun was dipping beneath the Artisan world’s horizon. The light through the window painted Hunter’s confused face a vivid orange. “You're saying those Punks who attacked our party, the big, scary metal-covered guys who whooped all the dragons... are actually a buncha hairless monkeys?”

“Not monkeys, dear,” said Bianca. “ _Humans_.”

On Bianca's insistence, Spyro, Sparx, and Hunter had gathered in the Grand Central Dragon Realms Library. Spyro and Hunter were currently seated at the opposite end of a reading table from her (with Spyro curled up in his chair like a cat), while Sparx hovered over the pages of the book, examining them curiously. With the Unity Day party over, Bianca was back in her usual dress-and-cape combo while Hunter was back to his usual nudity.

“Yeah, no offense, Bianca, but I've met some humans before,” said Spyro. “Not to sound speciesist, but they weren't exactly the shiniest gems in the chest, y'know what I'm saying?” Agent Zero came to mind...

Bianca shook her head. “The humans I'm talking about aren't from around here.” With an audible thump, she planted a book the size of a small boulder on the table. “I got this thing from the Sorceress's old library. It's where she kept all her records. See, even after she banished them, the Sorceress kept tabs on the dragons.” Bianca pointed to a faded illustration of what appeared to be a map, though the labels were written in a language about a thousand years out of date. “A millennium ago, the world we know as the Dragon Realms was called the _Human_ Realms, but then the dragons arrived, desperate to find a new home, and the humans didn't take kindly to their presence. A war broke out, and, naturally, the winners were the ones who could fly and breathe fire.”

“So the dragons just barged in and took over?” Spyro sprang to his feet, eyes widening.

Bianca shrugged. “Well, that's according to _the Sorceress_ , so I'd take it with a grain of salt.”

“Oh. Right.” That seemed to calm Spyro down.

“The important part is, after the war, not all the humans stayed behind.” Bianca flipped the page to another map. “A faction of them fled to a realm called Chronolia. The same Chronolia where Lord Steampunk told the dragons to go today.”

“Great sleuthing, honey bunny!” Hunter gave her a congratulatory kiss on the forehead. “I knew I was dating you for a reason.”

“What, for my brains?” Bianca raised a sly eyebrow. “That’s funny, I was dating you for your looks.”

“ _Guys_ , can you _please_ focus on the mission before that mutton I had for lunch comes back for revenge?” Spyro’s cheeks had gone from purple to green. “Learning the Punks’ backstory is great and all, but that doesn’t get us any closer to rescuing Yin. We’re still stranded here in the Dragon Realms.”

At this, Bianca sighed, then leaned over the table to meet Spyro’s eyes. “I know you feel guilty about what happened to Yin, Spyro, but it’s not your burden to bear. I’m not trying to be patronizing, but you’re a little kid, and it’s the grown-up dragons’ job to-”

“Not you, too, Bianca!” Spyro let out a groan as he hopped down from his seat. “Yeah, I’m a little kid… A little kid who beat Gnasty Gnorc _and_ Ripto _and_ -”

“-the Sorceress, I know.” Bianca didn’t hesitate to meet his glare (while Hunter and Sparx cowered off to the side). “If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be her stooge, and I can’t thank you enough for that, Spyro. But the only reason you had to do all that yourself was because the other dragons were frozen in crystal or because you were the only dragon in Avalar and you couldn’t go back home or- or because you were the only dragon who could fit down my rabbit holes-”

“ _Wait, that’s it!_ ” The others all jumped at Spyro’s sudden enthusiasm. “Your rabbit holes! How come I didn’t think of those before? If they can get us from here to the other side of the world, then taking us to Chronolia should be a snap!”

Bianca winced, bringing a hand to her mouth. She had, apparently, said more than she’d meant to. “That… _is_ true.”

“And you said so yourself, the bigger dragons can’t fit down those.”

“Well, making them any larger causes them to collapse...”

“And we want to do anything we can to rescue Yin, right?” Spyro gave her a little nudge with his snout. “So then it _is_ up to us!”

After a prolonged sigh, Bianca said, “I take your point, Spyro. If it’s our best chance of saving Yin, then… one rabbit hole coming right up.”

“A hole from here to Chronolia?” Hunter gave her an incredulous look. “Well, uh, in that case, you'd better start digging pronto.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “They're _magic_ rabbit holes, you furry numbskull. I can’t burrow clean through the globe.”

“Oh. Right. I knew that.”

“Sounds like a plan, then.” Spyro quivered with anticipation. Lord Steampunk was already as good as toasted.

“Wait a minute,” spoke up Sparx, giving Spyro an anxious look. “You couldn’t beat Steampunk before. Are you sure we can do this by ourselves?”

“Hey, it’s _me_ you’re talking about.” Spyro laughed to himself. “Besides, I betcha all our friends would fit down the holes, too.”

* * *

“Sorry, Spyro.” Sheila gave a sad smile. “I'd love to help out, but my mates need me.” She gestured to the nearby pair of goats desperately trying to yank Billy out of the castle wall.

“That's alright, Sheila.”

Next Spyro tried Agent 9, who was chilling with the Professor by the rubble where the Superportal had once stood.

Of course, Agent 9 immediately perked up at Spyro's suggestion. “An adventure? Count me in! Ooh, I wonder if Punks make the same funny noise as Rhynoc when you shoot 'em in the-”

“ _Agent 9_ ,” the Professor said sharply. “I need you here so I can keep an eye on- I mean, so you can bodyguard me.”

“ _But Professor-!_ ” Agent 9 let out a petulant groan.

“No buts.” Behind his spectacles, the Professor gave a stern glare. “The last time you went off on an adventure, it took me two weeks to figure out how to turn that snake back into your tail-”

“ _You promised you'd never talk about that again!_ ”

“Uh... I'd better go.” Spyro politely excused himself before the scene had the chance to escalate.

Well, that was the last friend he could invite along. Sgt. Byrd was needed by his military, and Bentley was out of the question for the same reason he didn't ride many elevators. Spyro supposed he could ask Elora, but Steampunk had already taken a swipe at her once. The thought of him hurting her… made Spyro’s scales crawl.

“Hey, Spyro!”

Spyro was shaken from his thoughts by a certain cheetah approaching from behind. Hunter ran up the steps of the castle balcony to meet him. “I got a sitter for my manta ray, so I'm good to go. Ready to kick some Punk butt?”

“You bet!”

* * *

By sunset, the group of Spyro, Sparx, Hunter, and Bianca had gathered back in the Artisans homeworld, right beside the pond with the twin waterfalls.

“Alright, let's do this!” Hunter fist-pumped and Spyro claw-pumped, but the others two failed to share their enthusiasm.

Bianca scrunched up her nose as she pulled out the Sorceress's spellbook. “Eww, it still smells like Rhynoc from when Grendor got his grubby paws on it...”

“ _Fee flar fee fah fah FOO!_ ” The chanting caused Bianca’s palms to glow like twin suns. There was a burst of light, and when the display died down, there was a fresh rabbit hole sitting in the grass, the perfect size for Spyro.

“That is _way_ cool.” Spyro gave the rabbit hole a curious sniff. “Man, it’s a shame I won’t be able to travel like this when I’m older.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Hunter prepared to do a swan dive, but he was cut off by a voice crying out:

“Guys, hold up!”

“Elora?” Spyro looked up to see the faun approaching. She, too, had changed out of her party outfit, meaning she was buck naked save for some strategically woven leaves. Spyro could never get over how weird mammals were.

“Spyro, are you sure this is a good idea?” Elora shot him a pleading look. “Steampunk could’ve really hurt you last time!”

“Wha- How did you find out where we’re going?” asked Spyro. Behind him, Hunter began whistling.

“Please, Spyro, don’t you think something seems off about this?” Elora’s voice was shaking. “It’s too easy. You could be playing right into Lord Steampunk’s hands. Why would he even kidnap a hatchling in the first place if he wasn’t luring you out?”

“Elora, I- I-” Spyro had been brushing off people’s worries nonstop all day, but somehow those big, sea green eyes were a lot more persuasive. He took a breath. “I’m sorry, Elora, but that doesn’t matter – I’ve gotta save Yin.”

“But don’t you see what’s happened to you?” Elora snapped with enough force to make Spyro flinch. “You’ve won so many battles that your head’s swollen! Do you really want to save Yin, or are you only looking for another excuse to show off for the cameras and make out with more fairies-?”

“Hey, it wasn't like that!” Spyro yelped, cheeks reddening. “I just needed a Superflame powerup!”

“Yeah, I've heard _that_ one before.”

“Oh! Oh, I see what this is about.” A growl was building in Spyro’s throat, sending steam pouring out his nostrils. “You’re jealous.”

“ _What?_ ” Now Elora and Spyro had a matching set of cheeks. “That- That’s completely ridiculous! Why would I be jealous of some ditzy fairy that you kiss-?”

“You’re jealous that people give me all the credit for saving Avalar!”

“Oh.” Weird, Elora had looked a whole lot more flustered a second ago. “No, I don’t care about that. I’m not jealous, Spyro – I’m scared you’re going to get yourself killed on some reckless adventure!”

“I am _so sick_ of everyone treating me like a fragile little flower just because I’m small for my age!” Spyro’s words had enough force to singe the grass at his feet. “I thought you of all people would be different, Elora. You always had so much faith that I could beat Ripto-”

“And I felt horrible the entire time for making you fight him!” Elora’s voice had gone higher, like she was recalling a bad dream.

“Phht. C’mon, I eat bad guys for breakfast.” As he spoke, Spyro puffed out his chest. “There’s not a villain in the world I can’t handle.”

Elora bowed her head, resigned. As she stormed off, she muttered, “ _Except hubris..._ ”

“Oh yeah?” Spyro called after her. “Well, if I run into any hubris, I’ll kick _its_ butt, too!”

Sparx gave him a look. “Uh... You do know what hubris _is_ , right?”

“Ugh. Girls are impossible!” Spyro turned back to the others, ignoring him.

“Ooh, someone's in the doghouse!” called out Hunter. The intensity of Spyro's glare shut him right up.

“We’ve wasted enough time,” Spyro said. “The longer we fart around, the worse things could get for Yin.”

“Okay, Spyro.” Bianca nodded her head slowly. “If you’re absolutely certain this is what you want to-”

Spyro had dived down the rabbit hole before she’d even finished.


	4. The Adventure Continues...

The first homeworld of Chronolia was an expansive grassland filled with the kind of sunlight that even _smelled_ good. One breath should’ve put Spyro at ease, but right now, no amount of chilly morning air could possibly cool his jets. His thoughts were too consumed – consumed by Elora, by Yin, by Steampunk…

How many times would Spyro have to prove himself before people stopped treating him like a baby? Well, if that’s how it was gonna be, then Spyro would just keep proving himself over and over and over again until even the dimmest Gnorc in the realms couldn’t deny his greatness.

Out of the corner of his eye, Spyro spotted a red gem half-hidden in the grass. Its distinct draconic scent proved it was one of the stolen goods, and so Spyro lurched towards the ruby… which caused nothing to happen.

“Huh? Sparx?” Spyro’s head darted around, but his companion was nowhere to be seen. Great, now Spyro had to pick it up himself like a primitive. He touched his snout to the gem, which made a pleasant chiming noise as it vanished, replaced by a bouncing gold “1” symbol.

Spyro trotted back to the rabbit hole. Apparently, he was the only one who’d exited. “Sparx? Guys?” Spyro stuck his face back inside.

“ _Heads up_ _!_ ”

Naturally, the others immediately shot out, causing a tangled ball of limbs to go soaring across the landscape. The ensuing chaos lasted several minutes.

“Ugh...” Bianca groaned as she finally freed herself. “At least I didn't have to bring any Rhynoc along this time...”

The instant he was out, Spyro took in the sight before him. The slapstick antics had landed them in a new section of the grassy homeworld. The plains had been replaced with rolling hills, all of them littered with some sort of stone structures… plus enough gems to make a dragon drool.

“Sparx?” Spyro didn’t have to say anything. His trusty dragonfly was already zooming around, grabbing every gem even the tiniest bit near Spyro’s radius.

“Well, guys, here we are.” Bianca made a sweeping gesture with her arms. “Welcome to Past Grounds, the first homeworld of Chronolia.”

The place kinda looked like the Artisans world, if the Artisans world was stuck in the Stone Age. Whereas Artisans was full of elaborate towns and jaw-dropping castles, this dump’s landmarks were little more than a buncha rocks stacked on top of each other. Guess that was the most the silly humans could manage without stone-melting fire breath.

Though, come to think of it… “Where are the humans?” Spyro asked aloud.

“Hmm, good question.” Bianca took Hunter’s hand as they wandered towards the central hill.

“Maybe they’re all hiding?” said Hunter.

“Could be.” Bianca nodded. “The Punks have definitely been here.” She gestured to all the gems scattered about.

“Geez, bad guys are _always_ dropping their stolen treasure,” muttered Sparx. “It’s almost formulaic.”

“And chances are they’ve hidden some Power Crystals around here, too,” Bianca continued. “That’s what I did with the eggs back when I lead the Rhynocs, anyways. We’ll have to comb the landscape thoroughly. If Steampunk’s armies are anywhere near as expertly-trained as the Sorceress’s, those Power Crystals could be _anywhere_. They could be in places we’d never find in a thousand years- no, a _million_ years!”

“Hey, there’s one!” Hunter pointed out a red crystal perched on ledge behind Bianca.

“I- What?” After spinning around in disbelief, Bianca folded her arms. “W-Well, _my_ armies wouldn’t have hidden an egg somewhere so obvious.”

“Uh huh.” Spyro trotted over to collect the Power Crystal. Like the gems, it made a pleasant chime as it vanished into hammerspace. “Alright, one down, ninety-nine to go.”

“Awesomesauce! Let's go find us some more!” Hunter started to run off, but Bianca grabbed his arm.

“Hold up, dear. We've got to be careful.” She glanced around, as if Steampunk's minions might spring out any minute. “Remember, we're in an uncharted realm. We don't know how friendly the Chronolians are. This far from the Dragon Realms, everyone we meet will be a stranger. The odds of running into a familiar face are slim to-”

“Spyro, my favorite customer!” The voice that hit Spyro's ears... made him want to shower. “What a random coincidence running into you here.”

“ _No way!_ ”

Part of Spyro couldn't believe his eyes, but the other, more cynical part of him wasn't _too_ surprised. Standing before the group was the only face Spyro had ever hated more than Gnasty Gnorc's. He had that same stupid monocle, that same ugly suit, that same oversized sack of gems clutched firmly in his sweaty little paw...

“ _Moneybags?_ ” All four heroes let out simultaneous cries of shock and horror. Even Bianca seemed familiar with the fat old bear. Really, you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone in all the realms who hadn't surrendered their gems to him some time or other.

“Small world, isn't it?” The way Moneybags was smiling, you'd think they’d greeted him with a warm hello.

“What are _you_ doing here?” A low growl escaped Spyro's throat. “Are you following me... _again?_ ”

“Why, I've no idea what you're talking about,” said Moneybags. “I've simply come here for a little sightseeing. I’ve been thinking of getting back into the haiku business, and I needed some inspiration-”

“Yeah, sure.” Spyro pushed past him. “Just stay out of our way, Moneybutt. And if I catch you making 'deals' with the enemy again, so help me I will-” He froze, then slowly turned his head downward.

Between the rabbit hole and the hill with all the stone structures, there was a chasm. To cross this chasm, one simply needed to walk across the bridge... that was currently rolled up and resting at Moneybag's feet.

All eyes fell on the bear.

“How much?” Spyro asked flatly.

“Now, now, Spyro.” Moneybags made a show of examining his perfectly manicured claws. “That bridge could've been like that when I got here. You _know_ what you make when you assume-”

“So you're _not_ charging us a toll to cross?” spoke up Sparx.

Moneybags gave a start. “I never said _that!_ ”

“Ugh...” Spyro buried his face in his wing. “We don't have time for this.” He looked towards Bianca. “Bust out some magic and teleport us across.”

“Thought you'd never ask.” Bianca cracked her fingers.

“ _Wait,_ _y_ _ou can do that?_ ” Moneybags gaped at Bianca with a horror he hadn’t displayed even in Ripto’s presence.

With a snap, Bianca summoned a twin pair of glowing, magical energy portals on each side of the bridge. “Everybody in.”

Sweat trickled down Moneybags’s face as he watched the heroes move towards the portal. But a mere second before Spyro could enter, Moneybags cried out, “ _Alright, alright_ , I admit it! You’ve outsmarted me, Spyro!” Suddenly, his voice grew solemn. Moneybags turned away from the group, hiding his face. “You and your friends are far too shrewd to be swindled by an old scam artist like me anymore. Go ahead and cross the bridge. It doesn't matter.” He slouched his shoulders and gave the bridge a feeble kick, unrolling it across the chasm.

“Um...” The group traded glances.

“I'll just go back to writing my haikus,” continued Moneybags. “I'm sure my wife will understand when- when I tell her we can't afford any bread and water for the little ones this week.” He brought a hand to his eyes. “And my grandmother's outstanding hospital bills can surely be put off another month.”

If Spyro’s eyes rolled any harder, they’d pop out of his head. “Oh, you have got to be-”

“ _Your grandmother's sick?_ ” Hunter promptly unloaded a fistful of purple and yellow gems into Moneybags's outstretched paws. “I had no idea!Tell her we wish her the best!”

“Oh, bless you, you credit to all cheetahs! Bless you!” Moneybags held the gems to his chest like they were his lifeblood. “Thanks to your generous donation, we’ll almost have enough to cover the car repairs and gas so we can visit dear old Grannybags in her final moments.”

“Nah, don’t worry, man, I can cover that, too.” Hunter added another wad of gems to the pile.

Moneybags wiped a tear from his eye. “You’re a saint, my good sir. Thanks to you, today will be my daughter’s best birthday ever… if I could only afford to buy her a present.”

“Here, get her a doll.”

“And the cake?”

“Order a fancy one, on me.”

“I do hope this will cheer her up after her puppy got run over yesterday...”

“Here, hire a necromancer.”

“Ah, but the local necromancer has accrued outstanding debt from the necromafia.”

“Well, I _was_ saving this money for retirement, but-”

“ _Sweetie, we really need to be collecting those crystals_.” Bianca had to drag Hunter across the bridge by the arm.

“But Bianca, his daughter!”

* * *

Now that he could see the stone structures up close, Spyro realized what they truly were – primitive portals. Between each arch was an image of an alien sky, and in front of each were floating golden letters revealing their destinations. No doubt each world of Past Grounds held its own set of Power Crystals to nab. The portals were arranged in a convenient circle around the hilltop, but not all of them seemed to be active.

Camped outside one such inactive portal was a pink, minuscule creature. At first Spyro thought he was a human, except he was way too tiny – not that Spyro was one to be throwing stones – and he possessed a pair of freakishly large, hairy bare feet. Spyro had heard of a species like this. He was pretty sure they were called halflings (“hobbit” was copyrighted).

“Hey, there, fella.” Spyro trotted up to him. Sparx, as always, hovered above Spyro’s shoulder, but Hunter and Bianca had wandered off elsewhere. “What’s with the busted portal?”

“Oh, it’s horrible.” The halfling bowed his head. “My party was journeying through Phantasmal Forest on an important mission, but then one of my teammates betrayed me to steal this evil artifact I have, and the rest of my party got attacked by Punks, and then-”

“You need five crystals to power your portal,” cut in Spyro. “We got it. We don’t need your life story.”

“I- Hey, how did you know I was going to say that?”

Spyro pointed a claw at the busted portal. The halfling turned around to discover a floating icon of a Power Crystal next to a golden “×5” symbol. “Huh.” He scratched his chin. “How long has that been there?”

* * *

“Yeehaw, pardner! Ya done saved e’ry last seacowlek in Coral Corral from those dang-blasted robo-sharks!”

Some time later, Spyro and Sparx found themselves in a world known as Shallow Reef. As the name suggested, it was massive reef a couple meters out from a Chronolian beach, and it was home to a race of starfish people who made their living farming seacowleks. The livestock was considered a delicacy by everyone in Chronolia’s ocean – including, evidently, the mechanical sharks.

“Here, lemme getcha that crystal thingamajig I promised ya.” The ranch’s owner, a rootin’-tootin’ cowlekboy, dug through his pockets. “One o’ the cowleks has been chewin’ on it, but it should still be good.” Spyro and Sparx happily accepted the Power Crystal.

“Sweet! How many is that now, Sparx?” Spyro turned to his glowing companion, who was hovering a safe distance above the shallow water.

“By my count, we’ve got five Power Crystals and three hundred gems.”

“That ought to be enough crystals to get that portal to the forest working.” With that, Spyro trotted towards this world’s exit portal. “Man, though, Chronolia’s portals must need way more juice than Avalar’s, since Power Crystals are supposed to be stronger than Orbs and all.”

On their way to the exit, Spyro and Sparx reached a small stream running through the reef. The water here was deeper and the current faster.

“Excuse me, young man?” A withered old starfish lady caught Spyro’s attention. “Could you help me cross this stream? My five appendages aren’t what they used to be.”

“You got any Power Crystals?” asked Spyro.

“I don’t believe so, no.” The lady searched her purse. “But I do have this lollipop if you-”

“Sorry, lady, we got places to be.” Spyro pushed past her without another word.

“ _Spyro!_ ” Sparx darted after him. “You could’ve been a little more polite-”

“What?” Spyro gave him a look. “Helping old people cross the stream isn’t gonna help save Yin. We don’t have time for this.”

Sparx frowned. “I guess you’re right...”

The frown had not vanished by the time the duo exited through the portal.

* * *

The dragon and dragonfly emerged back in Present Grounds, where the sun was beginning to set (It wasn’t stuck in permanent daylight like the Forgotten Worlds’ first homeworld).

“Speaking of Yin, do you really think searching every portal here is the best way to find him?” asked Sparx.

At this, Spyro sighed. “I don’t know, but my gut tells me if we find Steampunk, we’ll find Yin.”

“But what if Steampunk’s hideout isn’t in this homeworld?”

“I’m glad you asked,” said a voice. The duo was approached by Bianca, and she’d brought a friend. “I’ve been speaking with the elder of Shallow Reef here.” Said elder was a wrinkled starfish-person with a beard that fell to the floor. He’d given them a Power Crystal after Spyro had cleaned up all the pollution the Punks had left in the reef. “If we can gatherer the elders from every world in Present Grounds, they should be able to pool their magic with mine to open a portal to the next homeworld. Then all we have to do is repeat that process until we reach the fourth homeworld – which the elder says has the highest reported Punk activity.”

“That’s gotta be Lord Steampunk’s hideout!” Spyro jolted with excitement. “Great job, Bianca, I can already smell Steampunk’s butt roasting! C’mon, Sparx, let’s go find the other elders!” With that, he bolted off.

Sparx took a moment to catch his breath before fluttering after his pal. Sometimes, Sparx was amazed he managed to keep pace with him.

* * *

“Hmm, maybe there’s another portal up on that ledge?” Spyro bounded into the air. Then, at the very top of his jump, he broke into a glide. With this stubby wings, though, he didn’t quite reach the top of the ledge, and so he hovered his wings like a pro, giving him the extra height and distance needed to just barely make it. “Nice! I did it!”

There were some shiny gems up here for Sparx to grab, but unfortunately no portal. “Ah, well, at least I looked cool.” Spyro was about to glide back down, but then he spotted Hunter on a lower ledge, so instead he glided over there. “What’s up, dude?”

“Hey, Spyro! I saw something shiny up on that ledge.” Hunter pointed it out to him.

“Uh, yeah, there were some gems up there. I already-”

“To get there, you'll need to glide,” continued Hunter. “To glide, press the X button at the very top of your-”

“I _know_ how to glide, Hunter,” cut in Spyro. “I've kinda been doing it for years.”

Hunter looked genuinely surprised. “Really? You have?”

“Yep. In fact, this isn't even the first time you've given me a tutorial on-”

“But I bet you don't know how to hover! To hover, press the triangle button at the end of your glide.”

Spyro groaned, then mustered up a patient, “Thank you.”

Some things, there was no avoiding.

* * *

Lord Steampunk sat in pitch darkness, punctuated only by the spewing of steam, the clanking of machinery, and the deafening bleats that echoed down the factory’s assembly lines.

But the darkness was broken when a door whirred open, allowing both a Punk messenger and a barrage of artificial light to enter Steampunk’s chamber.

“My lord, our spies have spotted our hated enemy venturing through the worlds of Present Grounds. The dragon has been stealing back the Power Crystals and gems and disrupting our soldiers’ operations, although he did clean up that oil spill in Shallow Reef, which showed an admirable level of environmental conscientiousness-”

The minion cut himself off mid-sentence. For a brief moment, he’d caught a glimpse of the back of Steampunk’s head – sans helmet. In the darkness, the most he could make out was some blackened flesh. And scorch marks.

“Ah, Spyro, you’re too predictable.” In one swift movement, Steampunk returned his helmet to his head and pointed to the messenger. “Make sure most of the Present Grounds elders are on my payroll. When Spyro rounds them all up, I want them to send him somewhere a little different than he’s expecting...”


End file.
